Molly's Hair
by Justonestory
Summary: Molly was busy! She didn't have time to brush her hair. But it's distracting Sherlock...


Molly placed toast in her mouth, grabbed her badge off the vanity in the hallway, and pulled her coat off the hat stand next to the door. She ran down the hall to the elevator pushing her arm through the sleeve.

Standing in the elevator with half a jacket on and a piece of toast still in her mouth, she banged on the button and pushed her other arm through the sleeve…well, tried to. She went in a small circle trying to find the other sleeve, then realized it was on upside. She sighed through the toast blowing crumbs on the floor.

Straightening herself out, she walked briskly out of the elevator chewing on the toast. Running out the door and to the bus stop. Bouncing on her feet and wrapping her puffy green jacket tighter around herself. She exhaled a foggy breath and stared at her feet. It was then she became aware of someone staring at her… hard. She looked to her right and smiled nervously. The older woman caught her eye and twitched, giving a big smile back. Molly looked back to her feet and moved a little to the left.

On the bus Molly checked her watch, oh dear. She was going to be very late. She hoped Sherlock wasn't there. She looked around her to the people, having nothing else to really do. Reading newspaper, on their phone, and a few staring at her. She smiled at them, they smiled back, and began talking softly amongst themselves.

Molly tried to figure out what they were staring at. What did she do last night? A glass of wine, a bath, read a little bit, then bed. Nothing completely out of the usual. Sure, she didn't always get a chance to relax like that. Usually it was quick shower, then bed. She slept in this morning, explaining why she was so late.

While Molly as thinking, she ran a hand through her long hair she left down today. She TRIED to run a hand through it. It was so messy her fingers got tangled in it. She had to use two hands to get it out. She should've used conditioner… Or at least forced herself to brush her hair last night, regardless of how tired she was.

Molly pulled a mirror out of her purse. GOOD GRIEF! It looked like a she had half of an afro and half of a piece of roadkill atop her scalp! Her beautiful long locks had turned into dreadlocks! And of course today would be the day she left her brush at home! Molly only hoped nobody would visit her in the morgue today. Or even worse, Sherlock would be there. Oh dear, what would HE think?

Molly eagerly got off the bus and ran to the hospital. She ducked into the morgue avoiding the eyes of her co-workers whom she KNEW were staring.

Sherlock pushed another slide under the microscope. The answer was here somewhere. The grass? The chalk? Ooh! Maybe in the—What on Earth is THAT?! Sherlock looked up at the monster that looked somewhere between a sheep and a komondor. Oh, it was Molly. Perhaps the beast was attacking her?

She walked over to the table and dropped her purse, obviously exhausted. It's only expected, she was a good 10 minutes late. She walked over to a coffee maker and poured a small cup of coffee. She turned around was about to take a sip when she squeaked in surprise. "Oh! Sherlock. You startled me. Um-hi!" She stumbled.

"Hello!" Sherlock sang. Leaning back over the microscope. He waited for Molly to look away and followed her with his eyes. What HAPPENED to her HAIR?!

Molly waited a few moments before going to the loo to get out of Sherlock's sight. She banged her head against the wall. Of course, today of all days she was going to have a bad hair day. Molly looked in the mirror.

Forget bad hair day, this was a TERRIBLE hair day.

Molly turned all angles. It really did look like there was something dead on her head. She thought about watering it down and trying to brush it out with her fingers, but that would just get her jacket and clothes all wet. And no use getting the corpses and evidence wet. She would just have to go on, ignoring the odd glances.

Molly eventually wandered into the morgue again. Drat—He was still there. She kept her head down and went over some paperwork. She got absorbed in her work she didn't hear Sherlock leave for a couple minutes. What she did notice was someone tapping her on the shoulder. She quickly turned around. "Molly, I understand you were in a hurry this morning. That is evident by your shoes and your chapstick. But your hair is putting me off. Please get rid of the mess." Sherlock held out a brush. Molly saw it was used, there was hair in the bristles.

"Is it… yours?" She asked, nervously reaching for it.

"I don't have any need for a brush. It is one of your co-workers. I think… Sarah?" Molly nodded and quietly began on her hair.

Well, that much of a mess, it was hard to brush out quietly. A ripping, tearing noise with every stroke. And a whimper every now and then. It really did hurt. Molly stomped her foot in frustration and pain after a few minutes.

Sherlock looked at her over the microscope. If anything, this was making it even harder to concentrate. Her quiet whimpers were pathetic. Sighing, he threw his pen on the paper and walked over behind her. "Give it here…" Molly gave him a curious look as he took the brush.

Sherlock started intently at the bottom of her hair. Slowly working his way up. It was a lot less painful this way, Molly had to admit. Finally Sherlock got to the top, the monster defeated. Sherlock handed the brush back and swiftly walked back to his desk. Finally, no distractions.

Molly ran her hand through her hair. Soft and silky once again.

Maybe she shouldn't brush it more often.


End file.
